Mary Roberts Rinehart

Mary Roberts Rinehart

Summary

Portrait of Mary Roberts Rinehart Mary Roberts Rinehart Munsey's Magazine — The Room Beyond (1908)

He remembered the night she taught Marjorie her baby-prayer. God, what kind of a fool, what kind of a beast, had he been?
After a while some one touched him on the shoulder. It was a strange nurse, with a hypodermic-tray in her arms.
“Let me pass,” she said. “Hurry, please;” but still Carothers barred the door.
“How is she?” he gasped, his throat dry and rasping.
“I don't know,” the nurse said evasively. “Let me pass, please.”
“Not until you answer my question. Has she—has she a chance? She isn't dying, is she? You can tell me that much, anyhow!”
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Mary Roberts Rinehart Mary Roberts Rinehart Munsey's Magazine — The Room Beyond (1908)

The doctor ran his fingers nervously through his thick gray hair. “Billy, you have never been ill, that I can remember.” Carothers looked at him silently. “You have never been ill, and you have a morbid shrinking from illness in others. You needn't deny it; I know. It's a family characteristic. Did it never occur to you, that night when you refused to allow Alice to explain—did it never occur to you to imagine—the truth?”
Source: Wikisource

Portrait of Mary Roberts Rinehart Mary Roberts Rinehart Munsey's Magazine — The Room Beyond (1908)

The nurse consulted the watch in the broad band of her apron.
“He will be here very soon,” she said, and went on with her writing.
Carothers paced the room, his hands in his pockets. Finally he stopped near the desk.
“I don't know how you women stand it here,” he said. “I haven't been here fifteen minutes, and I feel as if the walls were closing in on me. It seems like a huge piece of machinery, with about as much feeling. They feed people into the wheels and cogs, and grind off an arm or an appendix—I suppose I'm nervous. It's hot to-day, and this smell of drugs knocks me out.”
Source: Wikisource

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